When Life Gives You Tomatoes
by MrsBeilschmidt3
Summary: Joao Carriedo is left with the task of raising his younger brother, Antonio. But the sassy little ball of sunshine is full of antics...even when he's grown up.
1. Prologue

João never particularly believed he'd have his throat slit, but it looked as though that was how he was going to die…with Tim van Rijn's shimmering dagger at his neck. The war with the Frisians had cost him the lives of his parents, who were also the representatives of the Basques and the Iberians. The peninsula back home was in chaos, and things were no better on enemy territory.

Four days now he'd been lying in this dungeon while his wounds festered and the pain spread throughout his entire body. He was dizzy from the blood seeping down his hair and forehead and from the wounds on his back. His hair was matted with the red liquid and his eyes were red and puffy with tears.

Nations weren't supposed to cry.

" _He's too young to be at war," Ysabel had protested tearfully._

" _He's eighteen by human's years, a man grown now," Henrique argued. "How can he face the challenges of nationhood if he can't even bloody his sword?"_

Even three weeks ago his parents were alive, before Frisia's personification had started another fight with the nations of the Iberian Penninsula. Now, João Henrique Lisboa Carriedo's life was a hell that looked like it was just about flicker and die. Maybe he shouldn't be scared, maybe this death would bring him sweet relief and reunite him with his parents. But…what about Antonio?

One hoarse, small word escaped the lips of the personification of Portugal: _"Irm_ _ã_ _o."_ Brother.

Tim's eyes widened and his grip on the knife relaxed. He looked around at the men behind him; Audulf, a tall, menacing man who by the jeweled band on his forehead was clearly the king of Frisia, glared down as if daring Tim to kill João. "You show the Roman bastard's grandson who rules Europe," Audulf hissed, and Tim began to tighten his grip again, but he looked back and hesitated.

João followed his gaze to a very small girl watching a little way up the stairs that led down to Audulf's dungeons. With her soft, fair skin and green eyes, it was clear she was Tim's sister. Said eyes filled with tears, and a silence so thick fell upon the area that Tim's knife would have a hard time sawing through it.

Tim pushed João roughly away, letting him land hard on the cold stone floor. The girl gasped and ran off, disappearing up the stairs, and Tim looked up at his king and two advisors. "We've defeated his parents, but what threat is this miserable Latin pipsqueak anyway, right? Why waste time on such a pathetic weakling?" He eyed João coldly but seemed reluctant to look King Audulf in the eye.

João got up slowly, his stomach roiling after four days lying wounded in a Germanic prison cell. A guard grabbed him tightly by the arm and dragged him up out of the fortress. The light was almost blinding after so many days below the ground and for some reason it made João sneeze. He felt a dizzying head rush and held his temple with his thumb and forefinger, shuddering. The guard kicked him along and he sniffled, trying to hide the tears that streamed down his face when he felt something hit his stomach… hard.

João looked down and started weeping for the one joy he had in life. Little Hispania, Antonio by human name, was reaching up with chubby child hands and hugging his waist. Instantly João picked him up and looked him over, seeing no sign of the same harsh treatment that he'd been given. Antonio seemed well-fed and fairly healthy, though shivering from the harsh Germanic weather.

João hoped that Germania's young grandson, Gilbert, was under good influence and would grant them safe passage back to Iberia. From what his parents had told him, Romulus, his own grandfather, was killed by Germania. Perhaps Gilbert would be a little less violent toward the Latin people, but he was still really a child. It was up to whoever governed him.

But João forced himself to swallow back his fears and smile for Antonio. The little green-eyed child with the curly brown hair, the one who looked so like him and their mother, was his reason to live on. Maybe caring for this tiny nation was his hope, his future.

"Hermano, they hurt youuu…!" Antonio whimpered and bit his lip, his eyes growing wider as a sign that he was about to cry. He grabbed fistfuls of what remained of his older brother's shirts and started to sob heartbreakingly. Something about the Frisians making his little brother cry made João even angrier than the fact that they captured him and tortured him.

João was shaking so badly he could barely stand, but he still managed to hold his brother close to his chest where he could be soothed by his heartbeat. It was enough for Antonio to know that he was there, that he was alive.

"Shh, you're all right…" He stroked the boy's hair tenderly, getting rid of some of his tangles in the process, and kissed his soft little nose. "We're going home."


	2. Raising Spain

No subsequent attacks came from the Germanic regions, though likely because Gilbert was still too young to act as a nation. Belgium was a small country and ruled by Frisia's king; João had a feeling that the little girl was the tiny nation's personification.

Sea travel was too expensive and João was far too weak to travel by foot, so Teutonic warriors, said to be under Gilbert's command though the child was roughly ten by human standards, escorted them to Francia. During the trip João took sick from the weather and was relieved that the Frankish conditions were more temperate.

"Is that a man or a woman?" Antonio queried loudly, jabbing a finger in the direction of an approaching figure with long, golden curls. João felt his cheeks flame as their horse-drawn litter came to a rough stop. Clearly, it was a man coming their way…no, a boy. He was perhaps sixteen, short and lanky and dressed in fine blue clothing.

"Salûd!" He bowed swiftly and shook João's hand, smiling down at Antonio. "I am Francis Bonnefoy, otherwise known as the Frankish kingdom. You two would be… Portugal and Spain?"

João nodded silently, always shy around strangers. Francis did seem friendly, though, and his smile looked genuine. He was thankful he didn't hear Antonio's innocent but brash question. "The Carriedo brothers, João and Antonio."

Antonio giggled and jumped out of the litter, throwing his tiny arms around Francis' waist. "You're nice, let's be amigos~!" He hugged him happily and Francis rubbed his hair with an amused grin on his face.

"I would love to be your… _amigo,_ that's how you say it? I've come to let you and your brother stay in my country and recover." He tried to lay a hand on the older Carriedo brother's forehead but João pushed it away.

"I'm fine, we don't need-" He was cut off by an unexpecting coughing fit, feeling dizzy and a little void of air. João didn't trust very easily, but it was probably best, in his condition, not to travel. _"Obrigado,_ that would be good."

Francis chuckled. "I thought so. Ah, I see envoys have come from the Teutonic knights." He smiled at the tired, thirsty-looking men. "You too, you can all come to my home in Paris. You all seem to need refreshment." He noticed João's uneasiness and added quickly, "I am friends with Gilbert and his rulers. They won't harm you."

And, true to Francis' word, they didn't.

҉҉҉

Many years later in Madrid, Spain…

" _Irm_ _ã_ _o,_ how do you explain this?" João demanded. He held a small turtle by the shell between his thumb and forefinger, using his other hand to rub his aching temples. He stood in one of his night shirts, trying to get into his bed only to find it full of the creatures.

"But _hermanooo…"_ Antonio whined, biting his quivering lip. His voice creaked with adolescence and somehow that made it sound even more pitiful. "I was making a turtle farm…"

"In my bed?" João threw up his hands in exasperation. "I want you to put them all right back where you found them! Now, or you'll be in trouble!" It almost amazed him how much he sounded like their father.

Antonio sniffled, his big green eyes starting to well with tears. "B-but they were all going to be my pets… I'd be so happy if I could keep them all…" The floodgates open and the waterworks had begun. João felt a little pang in his chest and knew he had to stand strong.

He bent down a little to his brother's eye level and sighed. "Antonio… imagine if you were a turtle, happily living in your little pond with all your turtle friends, when suddenly some giant from out of nowhere takes you from your home and brings you into some strange, dry environment with no food you like."

This only made Antonio cry harder. "I-I'm a monster! I took them away from everything they've ever loved-"

"Hey, hey…" João hugged him close and sighed, running his fingers through his brother's thick, dark curls. "You didn't know better, but now you do, and you can make it right by bringing the turtles back home, okay?"

Antonio sniffled and nodded. "Okay."

And João and Antonio spent the rest of their night bringing twenty turtles back to their respective ponds, and João learned that when Antonio was being quiet for once, it was more suspicious than peaceful.


	3. Childhood Fears

"Hermanooo… Look at meee!" Antonio was currently almost twenty-five feet up in a tree near the house in Madrid. Juão looked up from the book he was reading and gasped, running up to the tree as quickly as he could.

"Antonio Fernandez Carriedo! Get down here this instant!"

Antonio started shaking a little as he looked down and discovered he was dizzyingly high up, and trees got higher when one had to climb down. His heart started racing. "Juão! Ayuda me! Ayuda!"

Juão sighed and swung himself onto a low branch, his rough hands unaffected by the feeling of bark. He'd climbed quite a few trees in his life. Soon he was near enough to his little brother to reach his arms out, and Antonio quickly leapt into his strong embrace. Slowly, the brothers made their way down the tree, and Antonio was still trembling.

Juão sighed and knelt to Antonio's eye level, looking him over closely. There were no scratches, amazingly. "I told you to be careful," he reprimanded him, but his tone was soft. "That tree isn't very stable and that's why you're not allowed to climb it, okay? You can climb any other tree." He realized that sounded a lot like the forbidden tree in the Bible and perhaps that was why Antonio just _had_ to have a go at climbing it.

Antonio sniffled. "Okay… lo siento."

"It's okay, I think you know better now." Juão led his brother inside and noticed the gray clouds forming out the window. "Aaand we're just in time. Apparently, it's going to storm."

At this his daredevil little brother visibly blanched. "S-storm…?"

Juão had almost forgotten how much thunder frightened the child, how he ran and hid crying under the blankets. It was honestly adorable, but he didn't want to show amusement at his poor brother's fear. "Oh irmão…" He bent down and scooped him up into his arms. "You'll be fine, it's just a little st-"

He was interrupted by a loud crack of thunder, followed by a whimper from Antonio. He could feel his brother's tears staining his shirt and sat down on the sofa to hold him. "Awww, hey, you're all right. Big brother's here. I've got you." He held him close and rocked him a little; he was thankful Antonio hadn't grown up of letting him yet. He hoped he never would.

Antonio sniffled and finally stopped crying, laying his head on his brother's chest where he could feel his heartbeat. It was strong and steady and nothing else could make him feel so safe. "Hermano…I love you."

No matter how often his little brother spoke those words, they would always make Juão's heart swell. He wrapped his brother up in a blanket and his arms and kissed the top of his head. It still smelled the same way it did when he was a baby. "I love you too, Antonio."


	4. Emma

Antonio had grown up. Juão watched his younger brother grow into a powerful kingdom, sail with his allies Francis and Gilbert, and conquer some of the New World. He was warm-hearted and kind but when he was angry no one dared cross him. He was lean and toned, his hair spilling in dark curls down his forehead and his bright green eyes ever dancing like flames in a fireplace. All the women loved him.

But of course, one in particular caught his eye. Throughout the centuries that rushed by Juão and Antonio both frequently fought against Tim, who was now called Netherlands, or Holland. Juão was sitting on the sofa reading when Antonio dragged in, exhausted, bloody, and ragged. Toddling behind him was Lovino, the nation of South Italy, who looked well thanks to Antonio's protection and care.

Juão raised an eyebrow in concern and put down his book on the sofa, carrying Lovino upstairs to bed. Surprisingly, the feisty Italian didn't protest. He did look pretty tuckered out, though, and Juão kissed his forehead and tucked him in, coming back downstairs to Antonio and sitting him down. "You look awful," he noted.

"I _feel_ awful," Antonio replied, sinking into the couch. His lip was swollen and his abdomen had a blood-stained bandage wrapped loosely around it. Juão frowned and took a bowl of water and a cloth along with some bandages and a vial of ointment. Antonio winced in the stinging pain and hissed a little as his brother cleaned his wounds and applied the ointment and fresh bandages.

"But…you'll never believe what happened."

"Try me," Juão said dryly. He'd seen enough in his lifetime that he'd believe almost anything now.

"Tim saw me about to pass out while I was hiding…and he gave me and Lovino food."

Juão had to admit, he was skeptical now. Whenever he heard Tim's name he always remembered the feeling of the Dutch country's cold blade pressed against his neck. But he had hesitated… maybe he wasn't completely heartless?

"And then…I saw his younger sister standing behind him- her name is Emma- and she had convinced him to feed us and let us go. She saved me, and before I left…she kissed me-" Antonio broke off coughing and held his chest, and Juão gently helped him walk up to bed, inwardly worried. How did Antonio know Emma didn't secretly hate them as much as Tim did? It was probably all a ploy; Juão had learned not to trust over the years, but Antonio was still naïve and believed the best in anybody until they hit him with their worst. Juão swore, if Emma dared hurt his baby brother, she would regret it.

"That's…that's great, Antonio." Juão laid him down and covered him up with a blanket, laying his hand on his forehead. At least he wasn't feverish, that was a relief. "Just…be careful, okay? I want to meet this girl before you get too serious with her."

Antonio smiled sleepily, his eyelids drooping a little. "Oh…I already planned to bring her over for dinner."

Juão rubbed his temples. Antonio was so impulsive; no matter how much he tried to teach him to think ahead before he acted but it seemed the younger Iberian nation was almost incapable of doing so. Juão just prayed Emma meant well toward him. Because if she didn't, she'd get no mercy for being a woman.

He held Antonio's hand as he fell asleep, watching the innocent look his brother little had with fondness. Antonio was really still a child learning to be a man, no matter how powerful the Kingdom of Spain was. And honestly, Juão wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to see his precious baby brother as anything else.


	5. When Life Gives You Tomatoes

"Please be nice," Antonio begged as he set the table for dinner. He knew Juão wasn't happy about him inviting over Tim and Emma, but Antonio was determined to win Emma's affections.

Juão huffed and lit a cigar. "What, to old Dutchbag?" It was his new nickname for Tim. "After how he treated us in battle?" He leaned back on the sofa, blowing a thin circle of smoke in the air. "I'll be _civil,_ how's that sound?"

"I suppose that's the best I can expect," Toni muttered, filling the kettle with water to make coffee. There was a knock on the door and reluctantly Juão answered it, managing a small smile for Emma since she had saved him all those years ago, and glowering at Tim.

Tim sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, looking like he wanted to explain something but didn't know how to word it. Juão didn't like him being around his baby brother, and had already determined to shadow him the entire time.

"Hola!" Antonio, on the other hand, was enthusiastic and friendly as always. He also wasn't as tired as he typically was these days, since Lovino was spending the week with his brother in Italy.

"It's good to see you both, now that the war is over." The personification of Spain grinned and got out four mugs. "Care for coffee, you two? Juão?"

"Yes, please," said Emma, while Tim politely declined.

"Black," muttered Juão.

Antonio was a marvelous host. Candles lit the dining room and each seat faced a serving of gazpacho, cachopo, a glass of sangria, and churros in the middle on a nice dish for display, one of their mother's favorite plates. The house was shining clean, and Juão couldn't help but be a little proud. It was so cute how badly his baby brother wanted to impress Emma, even if it did mean having her brother over.

They all sat down, and being the firstborn, Juão said grace. As they dug in, Emma smiled over at Toni, only to look down and blush when he stared back at her. Juão was shoving his food around with his spoon, too busy keeping an eye on Tim to really eat.

"What, aren't you hungry, hermano?" Toni looked concerned. "You're barely eating and I made your favorite, are you feeling well?"

"I'm fine," Juão muttered, "just not very hungry."

A layer of tension so thick it would break any knife that tried to slice it hung in the air. All eyes shifted to the Dutch man and the Portugese man. Antonio dropped a spoon and stayed down a moment or two longer after retrieving it before hesitantly sitting back up. Finally, Tim cleared his throat.

"Juão, Antonio… I want you to know I really had no intentions of harming you that day, or your parents. Try to remember I had a boss who forced me and my people to do things, and a little sister to take care of. But I did not kill your parents, and I tried to convince my king to set you free, Juão."

Juão still remembered the day Tim let him go- it really _wasn't_ just because of his little sister. He never had intended to harm him. His throat tightened, though he would never cry in front of Tim. Maybe now, the fighting between the Iberian Penninsula and the Netherlands could finally cease.

" _Obrigado,"_ he managed finally, reaching over to do something he never would have considered before. Across the table, Juão Carriedo and Tim van Rijn shook hands. The long grudge between the two had finally died, and though Juão couldn't forget what Tim's king had done to him, he could forgive Tim.

Antonio smiled over at Emma. "Well, that's a miracle," he whispered, chuckling.

She nodded and swallowed a bite of gazpacho. "Maybe they'll be friends now."

Antonio shrugged. "You never know with my brother. But whether they love or hate each other…I like you."

Emma walked over to his seat, blushing deeply. "Can you say that in Spanish?" she asked softly.

Antonio grinned. _"Te quiero."_

Juão was a little stunned when he saw Emma walk over to Antonio and the exchange that followed, especially afterward when she leaned over and kissed him. His brother was falling for the personification and his once sworn enemy was eating dinner in his house.

Maybe, Juão thought, he could learn something from his little brother. Antonio took everything with a positive, cheerful attitude, and somehow he always knew that things would turn out all right. Maybe, like Toni, when life gave him tomatoes, he should make gazpacho.


End file.
